


Punch Drunk

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drabble, Father/Son Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first drink always goes down so smooth for Chuck Hansen, and maybe that is the problem. </p>
<p>His dad comes to collect him after that. This, even drunk, Chuck knows to be the opposite of a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punch Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> if this reads kind of familiar, it was originally written for this [ fantastically adorbs drunk chuck fanart by frikadeller](http://frikadeller.tumblr.com/post/133409444929/drunk-chuck), but it has been rewritten and extended among other things.
> 
> i am also like 200% sure i have written a drunk!chuck fic before??

This is one thing neither genetics nor practice has given the kid an advantage over. Even after so many years, running with Lucky then Striker’s crew, Chuck is still that same lightweight. 

The first one always goes down so smooth for Chuck Hansen, and maybe that is the problem. Chuck is pliant with any amount of alcohol in him, so easy when it comes to leaving his hands to linger. Even in the midst of their worst drift hangovers, Chuck doesn't get caught asking for his dad. But that is neither here nor now when the kid is seeking openly for what he wants.

His mouth cants upwards, his fingers going for skin as he tugs insistently at the hem of Herc's worn grey Henley when his dad comes to collect.

This, even drunk, Chuck knows to be the opposite of a problem.

It is such a stark difference.

In any other circumstances, Chuck would be bristling at the slightest mention of his father's name.

Herc leads Chuck away from where Striker's crew always end up after every kill, behind their girl docked in the Jaeger Bay where there is the mismatched collection of fold out chairs and upturned crates with worn playing cards turned face up then shuffled around until everyone is calling out cheats. It smells a lot like engine grease and cigarette butts but the celebratory thrum is infectious even without the bottles going clink.

No one says a damn thing even with the alcohol loose on their tongues. No one even takes a second glance at the way Chuck is holding on to his dad. Propped up next to Striker's foot so he can get a better grip on him before they make the rest of their way back to their room, face flushed, eyes half-lidded, Chuck starts moving when his dad stops.

“You really think we should be doing this here, kid?”

Herc asks this even when he is already giving in to all of Chuck's every whim.

They are standing in the shadow of Striker's left foot, too well hidden beneath the shade their girl casts over them. Chuck hasn’t needed to stand on tip toes to reach his dad for a long time now but it is still habit for him when he does, laying a sloppy kiss over Herc’s mouth, missing it by some.

"No better place."

Chuck's insistence makes for a pretty good case when his intentions are so clear.

“Your headache is going to be killer in the morning.”

Herc warns him with all the warmth a father has for his son, leaning into the touch in every way that isn’t.

“Worth it…”

Herc is happy to correct his mistakes when he angles himself to kiss Chuck properly with very little hesitation. Full on the mouth and probably a side harder. There is something more to feeling like a sentimental old man when Herc gives a quick glance up at their girl bearing witness to the two of them. They don't bring this up, not even when they are alone and out of the public eye. But Chuck's punches are looking more and more like some of Herc's best swings, and Herc likes being far more reckless than a man his age really should.

Herc keeps the kid still for a couple more seconds before Chuck tries to go for broke and start something neither one of them can finish here. He can already feel him getting restless, wanting _more_. Herc pulls back an inch, not just a little bit affected by the whine Chuck lets out from his throat, begging in that way he does without getting on his knees.

There is time for that later.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that in the morning.”

Herc doesn’t even try to stifle his laugh when Chuck doesn't give him a reply, just lets the kid reach out for him with both hands to smother the laughter with his mouth. Herc shifts to splay a palm across the back of Chuck’s neck so neither one of them can get far when they pull back for a breath.

Even with the taste of the alcohol, it is still more sweet than bitter.


End file.
